


we make our own love in this world

by thestartoftime



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, anakin is a flirty little shit and obi wan is sexually frustrated, everyone is gay thats all you need to know, everyone is happy and they all love each other a whole damn lot okay, you guys better buckle up for a slow ass burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5967562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestartoftime/pseuds/thestartoftime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin Skywalker didn't ask for a family this dysfunctional. He's got one anyway.</p><p>or: the highschool!au that no one asked for, but that i'm writing anyway. </p><p>or: sports lesbian ahsoka, student council president padme, gay nerd obi wan, and emo quarterback anakin are their own kind of family. it's kind of a beautiful story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in which obi wan is gay and Suffering™

**Author's Note:**

> please enjoy!! and remember [writer voice] i'm always a slut for feedback!!

* * *

 

“What,” Anakin demands, climbing into Obi Wan’s sensible Prius, tossing his backpack into the back and buckling his seatbelt, “The _fuck_ is this?”

“That’s not a very polite question to ask someone who's giving you a ride to school, you know,” Obi Wan snarks back, hands resting lightly at nine and three on the steering wheel as he pulls onto the road. “If you have to know, it’s Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, and it’s a work of genius.”

Anakin mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like _fuck Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5_ , and Obi Wan rolls his eyes.

“It’s not my fault that you and Ahsoka decided to do donuts in Artoo last weekend, and that now he’s out of commission. You’re welcome for the ride, by the way.”

“Worth it,” Anakin mumbles, and reaches to change the music. A few second of messing with the controls, and the sound cuts off as Anakin slides the CD out of the radio player, tossing it carelessly into the backseat of the car.

It’s silent for a few seconds as Obi Wan flips on his blinker and merges into traffic. His hand reaches for the radio again, and Anakin slaps it away.

“It’s my car!” Obi Wan snaps, outraged.

“Yeah, well,” Anakin says, fiddling with the controls for something decent to listen to, “you negated your right to choose its music when you decided to play fucking Beethoven on a Monday morning.”

Obi Wan opens his mouth to argue, and closes it as some unrecognizable top forty jam flows out of his car’s speakers.

It’s too early in the goddamn morning for this.

 

* * *

 

Anakin’s halfway out of the car before Obi Wan’s even fully pulled into his spot in Coruscant High School’s parking lot, feet fumbling and hands scrambling for his belongings.

“Later babe,” he says with a wink, blowing Obi Wan a kiss that only adds to the student body’s (and Obi Wan’s own) confusion, slinging his backpack over a muscular shoulder as he strides away, slamming the car door behind him.

Obi Wan slams his head onto his steering wheel with an audible thump, letting out a groan. It’s only Monday fucking morning, and Anakin is already driving him up a wall.

But that doesn’t mean that Obi Wan doesn’t pause to admire the way Anakin’s ass looks in those jeans as he walks into school, before gathering up his own belongings and heading to first period.

 

* * *

 

He creeps up behind her, feet moving as stealthily as they possibly can in Coruscant’s crowded hallway, jumping at her to grab her by the waist at the last second.

“Hey,” Anakin says casually, as Ahsoka flinches in surprise, nearly face planting herself into her locker door.

“Asshole,” she responds, but there’s no real venom behind the words. Reaching over her head, he straightens the old photo of them she keeps in her locker, knocked crooked by her start at his entrance. Two young faces look back at him- a short brace faced freshmen smiles widely next to a pouting sophomore, whose hair obscures his eyes. Anakin is torn out of regret over the emo phase his hair went through in the tenth grade (hasn’t stopped going through, Obi Wan would argue) when Ahsoka makes a small squeaking sound, quickly turning around and pretending to organize her textbooks like she’s actually cleaned her locker in her life.

“Who are we watching?”

His stage whisper is apparently too loud for her liking, if the elbow in his ribs is any indication, so Anakin takes the opportunity to utilize his height to scan the crowded hallway around them. He follows the angle of Ahsoka’s gaze to soft lavender hair and a short cheerleading skirt.

“Riyo Chuchi?”

This time, his “whisper” is loud enough that the girl in question turns their way, eyes lighting up when she sees Ahsoka hidden slightly behind her locker.

“You’re welcome.”  
“Fuck off.”

The annoyance in Ahsoka’s tone is faked, he can tell, especially by the way she starts to bounce on her toes as Riyo begins to make her way over to them, gaze locked on Ahsoka. Anakin takes that as his cue to go.

He drops a kiss on the top of her cornrows, biting back a laugh as she shoves him off with an affectionate touch on the arm.

“See you at lunch, Snips.”

“Later, Skyguy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin slides into the table, gaze fixed on his lunch. His stomach rumbles pitifully, and he looks up, already anticipating Padme’s comment about the black hole that is his digestive system.

Anakin hears someone let out a loud gasp at the sight in front of him, and it takes him a few seconds of confusion to realize that, oh wait, that was him.

Padme’s hair is thrown up in a messy bun, and about 40 loose sheets of paper surround her, all some type of form filled out to varying degrees. A stack of broken pencils sits beside her, and a half eaten salad lies abandoned on her right side. The scene is one of chaos and stress, but it's the stray hairs falling out of Padme’s bun that shock Anakin the most. He’s never, not in the ten years he’s known her, seen Padme lose control of any part of herself, much less a few small stray hairs. Of course on her, the frizz looks glamorous and purposeful, but Anakin knows better.

“Hey,” he starts cautiously, and Padme nods at him without looking up, letting out a sharp intake of air that could possibly be interpreted as a greeting.

Obi Wan chooses then to sit down across the table from Anakin, unwrapping his sandwich and barely sparing Padme a second glance, as though the sight of one of their best friends losing her mind is a common occurrence.

Reaching into his bag, Obi Wan casually slides a coffee thermos into Padme’s free hand, and she makes an appreciative grunt.

“Can someone please tell me why the fuck Stanford, Harvard, Yale, and Brown all have the same admissions application deadline? Anyone?” Padme growls, looking up at Anakin, positively crazed, and with that much frostiness focused on him at once, Anakin holds in the urge to bolt, or at the very least, find someone to use as a human shield.

“Aren’t applications not due for the next two months?” Anakin hazards out, trying to take a bite of his burger without making any sudden movements to attract Padme’s attention.

“Yes,” Obi Wan responds for her, “But remember, Padme is running seven clubs this year, and she’s student body president, so she’s applying early admission so that she can have more time later in the semester.”

Padme lets out a grunt to confirm his statement.

“I’m not writing my essays right now or anything,” she clarifies, looking up from her work to make eye contact with Anakin, gaze softening for a moment. “I finished those months ago, I’m just filling out my address and stuff, so I can give the applications to Principal Yoda so he can add his recommendation letters and send them off.”

“You’re getting a rec letter from _Yoda_?! Doesn’t he only like, do them for three students a year?”

“It’s _Padme_ , Skyguy,” a familiar voice says on his right side, as Ahsoka plops down next to him, dropping her book bag onto the ground and snagging a fry off Anakin’s plate. “Who else do you think Yoda would write his esteemed rec letters for?”

“Obi Wan, maybe.”

“Okay, true.” Ahsoka says, uncapping her water bottle, and taking a swig. “How about you? There’s still one Yoda endorsed rec letter left for anyone who thinks they’re smart enough to take.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’m smart enough.”

Padme’s responding grunt is a bit aggressive, so Anakin changes his attitude a bit, and shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Ahsoka’s hand darts out towards his tray for more fries, and Anakin manages to catch her arm as it slides away. Forcing her fry filled hand towards his mouth, he licks her palm until she lets go, and the fries fall back onto his plate.

Ahsoka squeals, wrenching her hand away to wipe it clean on Anakin’s shirt, and Obi Wan makes a noise of disgust.

“Aw, poor baby,” Ahsoka purrs, eyes sparkling. “Wish it was your hand?”

This time, Obi Wan makes a noise more similar to a dying animal.

* * *

 


	2. in which the squad holds a sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just wonder who you could be going to all this trouble for. It’s not like any of us are vegetarian! Oh, wait a second-,” Ahsoka says, an evil sparkle blooming in her eyes as Anakin debates the merits of slamming the fridge door closed on his own head, “Obi Wan is a vegetarian! Which means that you went to all this trouble for one guy. Hm. Interesting. Very interesting.”

 

* * *

 

“What’s for dinner?” Ahsoka calls as she walks into Anakin’s house, slamming the door behind her.

 Anakin rolls his eyes, bumping Ahsoka’s hip lightly with his own as she makes her way into the kitchen, setting her overnight bag down on the counter.

 “Hi, Anakin, my best friend,” he imitates in a high falsetto, “Thanks so much for having me over for a sleepover! What could I possibly do to help you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ahsoka says, opening his fridge to pull out a sprite, tossing Anakin a coke without even having to ask. “Stop whining.”

“If you have to know, Snips, we’re having salad and pizza. The pizza’s on its way, but you can help me with the salad right now.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend you posed that as a question instead of an order.”

Ahsoka lines up next to him and Anakin breaks from chopping baby carrots to pass her a bag of lettuce.

“There’s a colander underneath the sink, just wash it and toss it into a bowl.”

Running water fills the silence until Ahsoka decides to speak again as she dumps the salad into a bowl, bringing it over to Anakin’s station to receive his stash of chopped vegetables.

“Wow,” she says, in a tone full of false wonder, “This is a ton of work for a salad! So many vegetables, so very healthy. Hey! Wait a second. _I’m_ probably not going to eat a salad. _You’re_ certainly not going to eat a salad. And as long as you ordered her a gluten free pizza, _Padme_ isn’t going to have salad either!”

Ahsoka sighs dramatically, stroking her chin.

“I just wonder who you could be going to all this trouble for. It’s not like any of us are vegetarian! Oh, wait a second-,” she says, an evil sparkle blooming in her eyes as Anakin debates the merits of slamming the fridge door closed on his head, “Obi Wan is a vegetarian! Which means that you went to all this trouble for one guy. Hm. Interesting. Very interesting.”

Anakin finishes shoving the vegetables into the salad bowl before pausing to dignify Ahsoka with a look.

“I don’t know what you’re implying-” he starts, before  Ahsoka leans against the fridge dramatically, stroking its surface.

“Oh! Obi Wan! Take me away from here!” She sighs, flipping her cornrows messily around her head in what Anakin thinks is supposed to be an impression of his own hairstyle, but better not be if Ahsoka wants to live.

“Obi Wan,” she calls to the fridge, “Look! I made you a salad. All for you. All yours. And you know what _else_ is all yours? My-”

“Okay, yeah, that’s enough,” Anakin yelps, jumping forward to grab Ahsoka, who springs just out of his reach, giggling.

 “Gonna have to try harder than that if you want to catch me, Skyguy.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey Padme,” Anakin says casually to her as she walks in and sets her bag down next to Ahsoka’s, purposely ignoring the squirming lump underneath Anakin.

“PADME, HELP,” Ahsoka yells from her position flat on the floor, while Anakin sits on her back, effectively holding her down, grinning up at Padme innocently.

“Should I be worried about Ahsoka’s wellbeing?” Padme asks, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow, looking down at the two _children_ on the floor in front of her.

“Nah, she’s fine, just- OW! What the fuck?! Did you seriously just fucking _bite_ me?”

In response, Ahsoka chomps her teeth down harder on Anakin’s arm.

Padme sighs, shaking her head.

“I’ll be in the living room, if either of you need me.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Obi Wan shows up, things have calmed down a bit. Sort of.

“Anakin, for the last goddamn time, slang isn’t allowed in Scrabble!” 

“Is too!”

“No! No, it’s not!” 

Obi Wan enters the war zone, nodding at Ahsoka, who sits pretending to read a magazine on the beat up couch, really just watching Padme and Anakin’s argument.

Anakin’s face lights up when he sees him, and Obi Wan’s stomach does a strange sort of flip flop, his heart squeezing in his chest.

“Obi Wan,” he says, patting the spot next to him, “Come sit down and tell Padme all about how slang is allowed in Scrabble, god damn it-”

“Well,” he says, savoring the moment, feeling Padme’s stare burn a hole through his forehead and Anakin’s puppy eyes peer at him from the side, “Technically, they’re not actually-”

“OH, SHIT! IN YOUR FACE, SKYWALKER!” Padme yells, competitive spirit now on high volume, , surprising exactly no one.

“Obi Wan,” Anakin asks, “Why do you fucking hate me?”

The doorbell rings, and Ahsoka perks up as if electrocuted.

“Pizza’s here!”

Padme picks up her wallet and begins to walk towards the front door, holding up a hand before Anakin can get up.

“It’s on me. Don’t worry.”

“Oh. We’re having pizza?”

Obi Wan visibly deflates a bit, and Anakin scrambles to reassure his friend (friend? crush? crush-friend? He doesn’t know. Don’t ask).

“Hey, no! Don’t worry- we made a salad for you.”

“Really? Anakin, that’s actually...really sweet.”

Ahsoka snorts from her position on the couch, looking at them over the top of her magazine.

“Gotta love the tone of surprise,” she says crisply, turning to the next page in Sports Illustrated. 

“Hey!” Anakin yelps, offended. “I do plenty of nice things for people! I’m a nice person!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ahsoka says, sitting up and stretching until her back pops. “I’ll be right back. Skyguy, I’m borrowing one of your shirts for pajamas.”

“You don’t even pretend to forget your own sleepwear anymore,” Anakin snorts, but gestures to his room none the less. “The ones in the blue basket on the bed are clean. Just don’t use-”

“Your lucky jersey, yeah, I know,” Ahsoka says as she exits, leaving Obi Wan and Anakin alone in the silence of the living room.

 

Ten seconds ago, Obi Wan hadn’t been aware of Anakin’s knee touching his, but without Ahsoka’s easy going presence filling the room, every nerve in his body stands on edge, prickling where Anakin’s skin is gently brushing his.

“I really did mean it,” Obi Wan says, clearing his throat. “About the, uh, the salad, I mean. That was really nice of you.” 

“Anytime,” Anakin answers, flashing Obi Wan a mega watt smile, and there is something trembling between them, sitting terrifyingly on the tips of their tongues, when-

“Pizza!” Padme sing-songs, waltzing back into the room, and Obi Wan snaps back from Anakin as if burned.

Ahsoka runs in, wearing one of Anakin’s old football jersey’s, knee length on her shorter frame.

“Dibs on the slices with pepperoni!”

“Pass me the one with cheese.”

“Anakin, which one is gluten free?”

Obi Wan pushes himself up, ambling towards the kitchen for his salad, a smile dancing on the edge of his lips.

  

* * *

 

There's nothing particularly special about the night. Ahsoka leans her back against the couch, snuggled in a blanket and Anakin’s old jersey, laughing over something with Padme as the older girl kicks Anakin's ass in Scrabble.

Obi Wan is leaning up against Anakin in a way that makes his skin hum every time their elbows brush, but he doesn't move away. Obi Wan’'s glasses are pushed up on his nose as his eyes scan the book he’s reading, and every so often he looks up to recommend Anakin's next move in the board game.

The room overflows with their presences, quiet and calm in the best of ways, and Anakin hates himself for the lump he feels suddenly rising in his throat.

Obi Wan is warm against him, and Ahsoka scoots over and puts her hand on top of his, smile soft on her face, as Padme's crystal laughter fills the space around them. The room is warm and his friends smiles are bright, and Anakin realizes then that this feels more like home than anything else he’s ever known.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, lovelies!! thank you so much for the awesome response i've been getting to this fic so far- kudos put a smile on my face, bookmarks make me happy, and comments encourage me to post chapters sooner and more often.
> 
> again, i don't really have a storyboard for this, so please let me know if there's any high school-esque event in particular you'd like to see. i already have a bit lined up, but i'm always looking for more ideas. 
> 
> p.s. please feel free to come scream about star wars with me on tumblr, at kcrra.tumblr.com!!


	3. in which gals are pals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "what's better than this...........just gals being pals......."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!! first of all, i wanna thank you guys so much for the awesome comments and response i've gotten to this fic- it makes me not only super happy, but also makes me update faster knowing what you guys think and that you appreciate my writing.
> 
> i slipped a couple star wars references in here, just because i could. you'll know when you see them.

 

“Anakin!”

Anakin continues walking forward, weaving his way through the hallway, pretending the white noise of high schoolers all around him keeps him from hearing his name being called.

“Anakin Skywalker!” 

 _Shit,_ he thinks. _Last name usage._

The clacking of heels grows closer. Anakin is 6’1, and reasonably well muscled, thanks to hours of football training, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t almost start full out sprinting as the sound of two very determined stilettos follows him down the hallway.

“Anakin Skywalker, force help me, I swear to god-”

A viselike grip clamps down on his arm, and Anakin knows his dream of escape is dead. Mournfully, he mentally bids his bed and Netflix account goodbye- he won’t be seeing them tonight.

 

* * *

 

Padme pulls him into the nearest alcove to avoid the flow of students streaming from classrooms, eager to head home for the day, with a surprising amount of strength for someone so miniature (not that he’d ever use that word in front of her, Anakin enjoys his current health status a great deal, thank you very much).

“Anakin,” Padme says, snapping her fingers in front of his face to pull his attention away from his fellow classmates on their way to freedom, those lucky bastards, and back down to her. He meets her warm brown eyes, momentarily marveling at the fact that Padme is not only wearing a fucking _blazer_ , but that because it’s Padme, said blazer looks fantastic. Anakin absentmindedly wonders how many freshmen girls will be wearing almost identical copies of the jacket tomorrow, before refocusing his attention.

“I’m listening!”

“Yeah, sure. Tell me while we walk, you're already late enough as it is,” Padme answers, pulling him out from the alcove and marching them determinedly down the hall. “So. Want to explain to me why you decided to try and sneak home, despite the fact that you promised me you’d help me with Homecoming decorations?”

Before Anakin can answer (or make up an excuse), Padme shoves him into a small classroom, brightly lit with afternoon sunshine. She removes a key from her pocket, locks the door behind them, and has the nerve to wink at Anakin as she slips the key into her cleavage.

"No escape," she mouths, turning on her heel and heading back to her work station.

If there was any chance of freedom before, it died the moment Padme’s immaculately done nails closed around his arm, so Anakin sets his backpack down and looks around the room.

“Who snitched?” He asks flatly, eyeing each of his friends, one by one.

* * *

 

Ahsoka looks up from her station, where she sits cutting out paper stars, indignantly.

“Okay, first, I resent the implication that I would ever tattle on you- mostly because, as we all know, snitches get stitches. Second, I want know why you even have to ask that question.”

“Obi Wan?” Anakin asks, staring holes into the only person in the room facing away from him, whose scissors have stopped cutting actual paper, instead making a rhythmic snipping motion into the air.

“Obi Wan,” Ahsoka, Rex, and Padme confirm, just as the teenager in question turns around.

“Anakin! What a surprise!”

“Is this revenge for throwing away your Mozart CD? Because if so, I’m even less sorry than I was before, which wasn’t at all, so.”

“Uh, no, that’s not why-”

“I think you just can’t bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight,” Anakin says, winking.

Anakin flirts with almost anything that draws breath, so Obi Wan really shouldn’t be as flustered as he feels.

In his defense, Obi Wan really didn’t have a planned answer but with a 4.0 GPA, he doesn’t think it was unreasonable of him to expect himself to come up with a better one than what he chooses.

“Um.”

“Um is right,” Anakin says, but his face breaks into a smile and he sits down next to Obi Wan, holding out his hand for streamers to tie together. Obi Wan feels his face flush as he gives Anakin a roll of the paper, and proceeds to watch as Anakin’s capable fingers and strong hands weave together streamer after streamer and- Obi Wan quickly jerks his eyes away. They’re in a public place, and they just friends. It’s an excuse that sounds hollow even to him, but he clings to it nevertheless. He’s known Anakin since they were in middle school. Obi Wan wants more than friendship these days, but he’s not willing to sacrifice his friendship in the likelihood that Anakin doesn’t feel the same way.

* * *

 

A loud groan from Ahsoka tears Obi Wan from his thoughts.

“Literally, fuck my entire life,” she whines, dropping her phone dramatically onto the floor beside her.

“Can we help you?” Rex asks, before leaning forward to quickly yank Ahsoka’s decorations and scissors out of the way, as the junior in question starts slamming her head against her desk.

Rex flashes a panicked look to the room as a whole. Yeah, as a senior, he outranks Ahsoka in terms of experience with most things, but that doesn’t mean he has any idea how to deal with dramatics like this.

Anakin ambles over, picking her phone up off the ground, and unlocks it. Anakin knows Ahsoka’s passcode, and she knows his, and although they both insist it's only in case the other dies and needs their phone history cleared and nudes deleted, Obi Wan knows it's some sort of weird best friend thing, judging by how often they “hack” each other’s snapchats and save hundreds of selfies to the other’s camera roll the minute they put their phone down. They love each other so much that it’s disgustingly adorable, and Obi Wan might feel threatened by Ahsoka if it weren’t for the fact that she’s the gayest person he’s met in his life. And Obi Wan’s met _himself_ , so that’s saying something.

“Don’t do it,” Ahsoka says, voice slightly muffled by the desk that she’s laying her face flat on, but she doesn’t physically try to stop Anakin, so he continues.

“Hey,” Anakin reads in his best ‘Ahsoka voice’, “So do you want to maybe come to Anakin’s house party with me after Friday’s game?”

Anakin stops reading, confused, and shoots Ahsoka a look.

“I’m throwing a house party?”

“Surprise! Now you are, Skyguy.”

“Wait. Who is the message even to?” Rex asks, standing up to read the phone's screen over Anakin’s shoulder.

“Riyo, of course,” Anakin says, and makes a kissy face. Padme lets out a giggle, and Ahsoka looks at her with surprise, betrayed.

“Keep reading at your own risk,” she says, slamming her head back down unto the desk. The effect is less dramatic this time, because Rex has padded the space with his jacket.

“Can’t have you concussing yourself over a girl,” he says, shrugging when Ahsoka looks at him questioningly.

“She’s not just any girl, she’s _the_ girl,” Ahsoka says, and Obi Wan could swear her eyes start to sparkle a bit.

“Not that this isn’t fun or anything, but can we please get back to the drama? Anakin, keep reading,” Padme orders, walking over to the now crowded corner of the classroom. 

“Oh my god! That sounds so fun,” Anakin reads, this time in what they assume is his 'Riyo' voice. “Is it okay if I invite some of the other cheerleader to come too? You’re such a good friend!”

Ahsoka groans again at the word “friend”, and Rex pats her back soothingly.

“Fucking _ouch_ ,” Anakin says, dropping Ahsoka’s phone down next to her, and taking over back rubbing duty from Rex.

Ahsoka lifts her head, a pout on her lips. She turns to her friends, flinging her arms out.

“Was I not clear enough? Do I even look gay? Like, do you look at me and think, softball lesbian, or do you see sporty straight girl? Oh _god_ ,” she says, dropping back into her chair, head back on the desk. “What if Riyo thinks I’m a _sporty straight girl_?”

“Trust me when I say that’s not your problem, Snips.” Anakin answers.

“So what is?!”

“Gals being pals,” Padme cracks, and everyone, even Ahsoka, bursts into laughter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thank you guys so much for reading!!
> 
> since i'm a writer and thus always a slut for feedback, i just want to remind you guys that comments make my entire day, kudos are amazing, and everyone is welcome to come scream with me about these kids on my tumblr, kcrra.tumblr.com!!


	4. in which ahsoka gets the girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the squad is rife with sin this entire chapter. 
> 
> trigger warnings for underaged drinking and the vague mention of a previously abusive relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to thank you guys so much for the amazing responses i've been getting to this fic. please leave a comment or kudos- feedback or even acknowledgement motivates faster updates and makes the author very happy <333
> 
> as always, feel free to come talk to me on tumblr, kcrra.tumblr.com!!

 

“I can’t believe this,” Anakin grumbles under his breath, toting two coolers full of ice into his house, slamming the door behind him.

“Shut up and stop whining,” Ahsoka answers, taking one of the coolers off his hands and following him to the kitchen. “You know you were dying to celebrate winning the game, not to mention placing first in the robotics competition thanks to your C4PO, or something like that.”

“C3PO,” Anakin corrects, his eyes lighting up the way they tend to do when talking about droids. “See, the three part of his name actually comes from-”

“We get it. You have a boner for mechanics,” Ahsoka responds, giggling when Anakin flips her off. “Well, go on. I guess I’d rather talk about your robots than fucking _podracing_.”

“ _Listen_ ,” Anakin begins, warming up for the friendly argument they’ve had about a million time before, “Podracing is a legitimate sport, and if you can’t see that, then the loss rests on your shoulders alone.”

“This is coming from the guy,” Ahsoka says, not breaking eye contact with Anakin, even as she fills the coolers with drinks, “Who thinks spinning is a good racing tactic. _Spinning_ , Skyguy. You make it way too easy.”

The clack of Padme’s heels on Anakin’s hardwood floors interrupts them before either can make another point. Stepping into the kitchen, the girl in question surveys the mess, sighing loudly.

“I left for ten minutes,” Padme groans, grabbing a towel to start cleaning up the wet areas of the floor.

Ahsoka doesn’t hesitate to tattle.

“Anakin was the one who spilled the third cooler.”

“Snips, you fucking asshole-”

Padme lifts a hand to her forehead, shooting them both with her best glare, silencing them instantly.

“Anakin,” she says, voice all business, “You can go outside to the backyard and help Obi Wan with the keg, I doubt he knows what he’s doing. Ahsoka, Rex needs help unloading my car, there’s too many snacks for one person to carry alone.”

“What are you going to do?” Anakin and Ahsoka ask at the exact same time, smirking at one another over their synchronization.

“I’ll be doing my makeup,” Padme says, waving her purse at them, as they both nod reverently (Padme’s makeup game is otherworldly), before heading off to fulfill their separate tasks.

 

* * *

 

Anakin enters his backyard, and is promptly met with the hilarious sight of Obi Wan trying to handle a keg.

“Have your innocent hands ever even touched one of those?” he asks, in a tone that betrays more than a suggestion of laughter.

Obi Wan responds by flipping him off.

“Here, let me help,” Anakin says. Stepping up behind Obi Wan, he uses his arms to guide him through the process, gently and patiently explaining the steps. Yeah, the part that involves Anakin’s arms wrapped around Obi Wan’s body probably isn’t necessary, but flirty is Anakin’s default setting. He’s so emotionally confused around Obi Wan these days that he’s kinda been on autopilot. Sue him.

Obi Wan, for one, had never known how amazing opening a keg of beer could be.

Of course, it’s then that backyard gate slams open loudly, bringing the sound of Rex and Ahsoka chatter with it. Obi Wan has never desired the sweet release of death more than at this moment, as their friends walk into the backyard to take in a blushing Obi Wan, wrapped in Anakin’s muscled arms.

“As much as I enjoy teen movie cliches,” Ahsoka says loudly, and Obi Wan remains torn between hugging her out of relief or throttling her out of frustration, “We have a party to finish setting up. I’m trying to seal the deal with Riyo tonight guys, we don’t have time for these confusingly friendly displays of homoeroticism.”

Padme, entering the backyard behind Ahsoka and Rex, snorts. Obi Wan feels himself die a little bit more inside.

“Doesn’t Riyo think you’re just going to the party as friends?” Obi Wan asks, disentangling himself from Anakin as casually as he can. If his hand lingers on Anakin’s bicep a little bit longer than it needs to as Obi Wan steadies himself, it’s no one’s business but his (he’s talking to _you_ , Ahsoka).

The girl in question levels him with a stare that could freeze the insides of lesser men to ice.

“Yes,” Ahsoka responds, in a clipped tone. “But that’s the whole point of tonight! Music, dancing, and Anakin’s king sized bed! Plus,” she continues, ignoring Anakin’s yelp of protest at the mention of the possible desecration of his bed, “I’m going to be honest with her. Instead of dancing around it, I’m going to just flat out tell her how much I like her. Everything after that is up to her.”

“Ah, yes. Drunk teenagers, pop music, and cheap booze. The perfect recipe for love.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Padme responds, leveling her trademark glare at Obi Wan for his comment. “We’ll all be rooting for you.”

Anakin raises his hand.

“Yes, Skyguy, the part about your bed was a joke,” Ahsoka says, crinkling her nose at him affectionately.

“But seriously you guys, trust me,” she says confidently, “I’ve got this.”

 

* * *

 

The party is three hours in, and Ahsoka still hasn’t managed to even get Riyo alone. It isn’t that she isn’t trying. Her first derailment of the plan began when Anakin challenged her to a round of drunk Mario Kart in front of everyone, and what was she supposed to do? Back down? Not likely. Then of course, came ten minutes of convincing Obi Wan to have even a single beer, followed by dancing, several snack breaks, and a brief period of hiding in the bathroom while Anakin and Padme kicked her ex, Barriss Offee, out of the party.

Barriss has been the most unexpected part of the night so far- it’s shocking to Ahsoka that Barriss would even try to show up at a party she must know Anakin, of all people, is throwing- but she’s refusing to let it get to her. Barriss doesn’t matter anymore- it’s been almost a year, and Ahsoka can finally see her without the feeling of ice cold talons plunging themselves into her heart.

That doesn’t mean, however, that Barriss can just show up at Anakin’s party like nothing has changed. She’d run to the bathroom as soon as she’d seen the familiar hijab-covered head, but she could still make out Anakin’s muffled screaming and Padme’s curt tones though the closed door. She smiles as a rush of affection overwhelms her heart, and pushes Barriss out of her mind. She’s the past.

Hopefully, Riyo is the future.

Over in the kitchen, Padme is doing a body shot off Sabe, to the cheers of a roaring crowd.

Ahsoka uses the distraction to pop up behind Riyo, resting her chin on the cheerleader’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she says, unable to stop a massive grin from spreading across her face.

“Ahsoka!”

Riyo’s smile is blinding, and from this close, Ahsoka can smell her vanilla perfume. The combination of these things, with the sound of her name in Riyo’s mouth, is more intoxicating than any liquor she's had tonight.

“Can we talk? In private, maybe?” Ahsoka asks, raising her voice to be heard over the din of the kitchen.

“Of course,” Riyo answers, and Ahsoka offers the shorter girl an arm as they walk outside to Anakin’s backyard. Here, the bass thumps and a pseudo dance floor has sprung up, but the night air is fresh and it’s quieter than the yells inside.

They sit side by side on the porch stairs, knees touching in a way that makes Ahsoka’s mouth dry. Riyo brushes some of her lavender hair behind her ears, turning to Ahsoka with a smile.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Ahsoka fidgets, taking a deep breath as she stands up. She begins to pace nervously, trying to work away some of her anxiety.

“Ahsoka?”

“Well. Um, so, I really like you and not like, in a friends way. I mean, if you want to be friends, that's fine, but uh, every time I see you my stomach gets all fluttery and I think you’re really cute and I _like_ like you- oh god, that sounded so elementary- and I was wondering if maybe you might like me back? Possibly?”

Ahsoka breathes out deeply, spent. Riyo is silent, and Ahsoka hazards a look up at the other girls face. It’s an expression filled with confusion and dread- not exactly the reaction she was going for. Her heart sinks down into her shoes.

Riyo clears her throat.

“I’m flattered, Ahsoka, but I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

Ahsoka almost collapses in on herself, the sting of rejection hitting her with a wave of nausea. She suddenly wonders if doing pre-party shots with Anakin was a bad idea, just like Padme had said, as her stomach churns with humiliation.

"Oh. Um. Well. I guess I’ll stop, uh, bothering you then. Enjoy the party."

Riyo's face softens, and she steps forward, placing a gentle hand on Ahsoka’s wrist before the other girl can turn away and leave with what remains of her dignity and pride. With a hand resting lightly on her arm, Ahsoka tries not to shiver at the contact of Riyo’s smooth skin with hers. She fails, but at least manages to hold herself back from actively leaning into the touch.

"Ahsoka," Riyo says, voice gentle. "I like you. A lot. But you have a boyfriend, and I'm not comfortable with you cheating on someone."

Ahsoka pulls away from Riyo, her features twisted in utter confusion.

"What?"

"You have a boyfriend, and I'm not com-"

"No, no, I heard that part," Ahsoka says, gesturing with her hands as if to wave the thought away. "But if you’re talking about that one kiss with fucking Lux Bonteri, that wasn’t exactly mutual, and if anything served to reaffirm my gayness-”

“No!” Riyo interrupts, huffing with frustration. If Ahsoka weren’t so confused, she’d find it adorable. Screw it, she _does_ find it adorable. “I’m talking about Anakin!”

“Anakin?” Ahsoka asks, scrunching her brow in confusion. “What does Anakin have to do with anything?”

“Anakin. Your _boyfriend_.”

“ _ANAKIN?!_ ”

Ahsoka backs up against the stairs and sits down. Putting a hand to her forehead, she barely registers Riyo taking a seat next to her. Briefly, she wonders if this is how fainting feels, or how a heart attack starts. Instead of dwelling on the thoughts, she turns to Riyo, blue eyes wide.

“You think that Anakin is my _boyfriend_?”

Riyo’s facial expression morphs into confusion.

“Wait, isn’t he?”

“No! Riyo, I’m _a lesbian._ ”

The cheerleader pivots to face Ahsoka, mouth slack.

“But you wear his letterman jacket on game days!”

“It’s nice and warm.”

“You guys have pet names for each other!”

“Best friend thing.”

“Y-you share food! He gives you piggy back rides around the quad! He wears face paint and brings a poster of you to your softball games!”

“The food thing is something everyone does, the piggy backs are fun and I will not be ashamed for enjoying them, and the poster- well, the poster thing is just kind of an Anakin thing to do.”

Riyo’s facial expression is the same as if someone has slipped ice down her back, her mouth puckered into a tiny pink o. Ahsoka resists the urge to kiss her.

“I’m so confused right now,” Riyo admits, and Ahsoka pats her back comfortingly.

“Shocking, I know. Most people have the same reaction when they too discover that guys and girls can, in fact, have platonic friendships.”

Riyo giggles.

“Look,” Ahsoka says. “You want proof? Check out the dance floor.”

Riyo’s head turns to the open portion of Anakin’s backyard, where, right in the middle of a throng of sweaty, hormonal teenagers, Anakin is grinding on a bright red Obi Wan (who looks as if he’s about to have a heart attack, and Ahsoka briefly considers getting medical attention before assuming that he’ll be fine).

“Oh,” Riyo says, all traces of confusion gone.

“Yep,” Ahsoka says, nodding and smiling fondly at her boys as Anakin grinds and Obi Wan dies on the dance floor.

“You know, I don’t know if I’m totally convinced yet.”

Ahsoka turns to Riyo with a pout, nearly flinching backwards when she realizes how much closer the other girl has gotten to her. Riyo slides a hand around the back of Ahsoka’s neck, and her skin burns at the contact.

“Oh?”

“Mm,” Riyo replies, moving even closer, until only an inch or two lies in between their faces. Ahsoka’s eyes flick down to Riyo’s lips and back up again.

“Maybe I could convince you,” Ahsoka answers.

“I’d like that,” Riyo replies, eyes already sliding shut.

Ahsoka cups Riyo’s face with both hands, and takes the plunge.

 

* * *

 

Freezing mid-grind, Anakin pokes Obi Wan, whose face is an interesting shade of red, similar to a fire truck, or maybe a tomato.

“Look!” he exclaims gleefully, pointing towards porch steps. “Ahsoka got the girl!”

Obi Wan follows Anakin’s gesture, grateful for any distraction from the way sweat is dripping down Anakin’s neck to slip below the collar of his tshirt. Across the room, Ahsoka and Riyo’s faces and limbs have become almost indistinguishable from one another, the cheerleader nearly sitting on their friend’s lap. Obi Wan wonders if he should be concerned about the amount of air Ahsoka definitely _isn’t_ getting, but then he remembers how she, despite clearly having seen Anakin dancing on him, didn’t come save him (not that he wanted saving, but he’ll never, ever admit that), and decides against it. Ahsoka can fend for herself.

He turns back to a grinning Anakin, who is beaming in a way a proud older brother might at his little sister’s wedding.

“I can’t wait to give Riyo the talk,” he says, and _holy shit_ , Obi Wan wonders, is Anakin literally tearing up?

“What talk?” Obi Wan asks, suspicious evident in his tone.

“You know. The ‘if you hurt Ahsoka, we’ll have to ruin your entire life with no regrets,’ speech.”

“You mean like we did to Barriss last year?”

“That back stabbing traitor had it coming.” Anakin says, his eyes darkening. Obi Wan can’t help but nod in agreement.

“So,” Anakin says, turning away from the two girls and shaking off the somber mood, laying his hand on Obi Wan’s elbow. “What else do you want to do?”

“You pick. I don't care.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Anakin answers, the smirk on his face absolutely delicious. “Obi Wan, do you wanna do a body shot off me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed the chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it. if there's anything you liked, or maybe want to see more of, please comment below!! i love to hear what you guys think, and kudos are always appreciated as well!!
> 
> also, can you tell that i've never been to a party involving alcohol, despite being a junior? amazing. hopefully my introvert tendencies weren't too obvious.
> 
> come talk to me at kcrra.tumblr.com!!


	5. in which anakin is ahsoka tano af

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin has no chill, with anything in his life, ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! another chapter down, who knows how many to go. every time i see a new comment or bookmark or even kudos on this fic, it swells my lil heart up with so much joy- i can't even describe it. if you've taken the time to do anything of these things, thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. you make writing easier, more enjoyable, and super rewarding. 
> 
> p.s. i know nothing about softball. at all. the only reason i even chose softball is that it felt gay, and i'm a sinner.

If you were to ask Obi Wan Kenobi how he liked to spend his Friday nights, he might mention a cup of hot tea and one of his favorite books, or a certain show he’s currently enjoying on Netflix. Maybe, if he’s feeling extroverted, he’d talk about a dinner out with friends. He certainly, not in a million years, would say this season’s championship match of girl’s softball, hosted at Coruscant High School, but here he is anyway.

Personally, Obi Wan thinks that Ahsoka should let him have her trophy if she wins this game, as an apology for having to suffer through an entire game seated next to Anakin Skywalker.

Don’t get him wrong. Anakin’s one of his best friends, not to mention his crush, and Obi Wan finds him exciting, funny, smart, and talented. However, when describing Anakin, the words “calm” or “collected” have never been used, a fact that applies even less so than usual at Ahsoka’s softball games.

Anakin is shameless. As Ahsoka’s best friend, he views it as his personal force given mission to simultaneously embarrass her and serve as her number one fan- and her softball games are his chance to show it, both in attitude and attire.

On his shirt, bold font declares Anakin the “AHSOKA TANO FAN CLUB PRESIDENT” with her jersey number on the back. Under his eyes, Anakin wears twin football stripes, and his hair is streaked with spray on dye, boldly portraying their school’s colors. His poster takes up a whole seat in between them, bearing the words, “SNIPS 2K16”, in the glittered lettering. Every time Ahsoka so much as shifts her position on the field, Anakin takes it as his cue to jump up, screaming encouragement and tips, waving his poster around like a madman. The patrons near them give him a wide berth, and by halftime, they have an entire row of seats to themselves, no doubt caused by the crazed look in Anakin’s eyes.

Obi Wan isn’t very clear on the rules or purpose of softball- but from what he can understand, they’re down to the last few minutes, and the entire game is resting on Ahsoka’s shoulders. Leaning forward, he does his best to block out Anakin, and silently sends luck and encouragement Ahsoka’s way.

“AHSOKA, YOU GOT THIS. SLAY’EM, SNIPS!” Anakin shrieks, and yeah, blocking him out isn’t going to be possible.

The pitcher throws, and Ahsoka slams her bat into the ball with an audible crack. She drops the bat and shoots off like a bullet, running like her life depends on it. Everyone on the bleachers leans on the edge of their seat, and Anakin nearly goes catatonic with adrenaline.

“OH SHIT! RUN SNIPS! FUCKING RUN!”

Ahsoka’s almost around the track when the ball is caught. It’s thrown back to base and caught perfectly by the other player- but not before Ahsoka, lightening on her feet, slides into the home plate with reckless abandon, and wins them the game.

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND! THAT’S MY FUCKING BEST FRIEND RIGHT THERE!”

The crowd is on it’s feet in an instant, Obi Wan included, and Ahsoka is smiling so hard she looks like she could burst. A cloud of lavender runs their way onto the field- Riyo, laughing and cheering for her girlfriend. Ahsoka’s smile, if possible, grows wider, and she meets Riyo mid-run, picking her up and spinning her around, before setting her gently back onto the ground. The two intertwine and Riyo kisses Ahsoka fiercely.

Anakin whoops loudly. Tugging on Obi Wan’s arm, he yells and points excitedly at the field, as if Obi Wan could have missed the most exciting point of the entire game.

“SHE DID IT! SHE WON THE GAME! SHE DID IT! DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT?”

Obi Wan nods wearily.

“Yes, Anakin, I saw.”

 

* * *

 

The game has been over for fifteen minutes, and Ahsoka and Riyo are still celebrating on the field with a display of affection that is quickly becoming more and more inappropriate, with no end in sight.

“Should we stop them?” Obi Wan asks, but his tone is more one of curiosity than actual concern.

Anakin looks over, his height allowing him to see over the crowd with ease.

“Force’s sake,” he says, eyes widening. “They’re really going at it, aren’t they?”

Padme stands on her tiptoes in an attempt to see what everyone else can, but even with her stilettos, it's a futile cause. She taps Anakin on the arm incessantly until he picks Padme up by her waist, holding her up high enough above the crowd to see for a few seconds. Placing her back down, he sighs, pulling a miserable face. Obi Wan laughs.

“Reel in the angst,” he says, and Anakin turns to him, aghast.

“Angst?! I’ll have you know that I haven’t been angsty since -”

“Yes, Anakin, we all know that your emo phase was in eighth grade. We were all there, unfortunately. Trust me when I say it’s not something I can forget, as much as I’d like to do so. Now, stop whining and make yourself useful again **,** I feel like the Riyo and Ahsoka situation might be escalating.” Padme says, tugging on his sleeve insistently.

Anakin inhales deeply, as if lifting up Padme so she can see above the crowd despite her short stature is the greatest burden he carries in this life. Making eye contact with Obi Wan, he pouts slightly before picking Padme up again, setting her down after a few seconds.

“So?” Obi Wan asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Padme’s eyes are wide.

“We’ve got to go break that shit up like, right now. It’s reaching levels of public indecency.”

Obi Wan cranes his neck to see, standing on his own tiptoes. Suddenly, a strong pair of arms grip him by the waist, and Obi Wan flushes as he feels himself lifted up above the crowd.

Anakin sets him down, grinning, and Obi Wan manages to disentangle himself without further embarrassment. Turning to Anakin, he crosses his arms, lifting an eyebrow.

“Was that really necessary?”

“I was trying to help out!”

“I am not a child.”

“I’m just trying to help out the less fortunate.”

“You’re only two inches taller than me!” Obi Wan snaps indignantly, before remembering the subject matter at hand.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit, what?”

“Oh, shit, Ahsoka is practically dry humping Riyo on school property right now, and we’ve got to go stop her before she gets arrested for public indecency or worse, Professor Windu sees.”

“Oh,” Anakin replies, starting in the direction of their friend. “Shit.”

  

* * *

 

As it turns out, Obi Wan and Padme weren’t exaggerating. Ahsoka has Riyo pinned against the ballpark’s chain link fence, one hand on the shorter girl’s ass, the other tangled in her hair. The two are dead to the world around them, engaged in a desperate, almost hungry makeout session that hasn’t stopped since the game ended ten minutes ago. The hand on Riyo’s ass is starting to make a slow climb towards the cheerleader’s chest, and the entire group silently thanks the force that most of the other players and their families cleared out once the game was over.

Anakin reaches into his backpack and pulls out a spray bottle, of all things. Before anyone can ask him why the hell he’s carrying around fucking water spray bottles in his backpack, Anakin walks up to Ahsoka, and proceeds to squirt her until she rips herself off Riyo, flinching away from the stream of water.

“What the fuck?” She asks, turning a confused face to Anakin, only to be sprayed once again, this time in the face, by the bottle’s owner.

“Down girl,” Anakin answers, fighting back laughter.

Ahsoka wipes her dripping eyes, looking at Anakin with murder in her gaze.

“Please tell me that you didn’t just spray me with the same kind of bottle you use on a misbehaving animal,” she says in a deadly voice, but the intimidation factor of her words is ruined by the rivulets of water making their way down her face.

“I did!” Anakin exclaims gleefully. “I got the idea when we were over at Obi Wan’s and I saw him using one on his cat.”

“I’m not a _fucking_ cat!”

“The basic concept still works though,” Anakin says, gesturing to a blushing Riyo. Ahsoka winks at her girlfriend salaciously before turning back to Anakin, hands on her hips.

“You can’t walk through life following me around with a spray bottle in an attempt to cockblock me.”

“Who says I can’t?” Anakin waves his spray bottle and teasingly squirts Ahsoka again, darting out of the way of her fist when she swings at him.

“I like the idea,” Padme says, humming interestedly. “It’s a creative method, and surprisingly effective. The real experiment would be to fill the bottle with different liquids and see if those discouraged the behaviors quicker. For example, would lemon juice be more effective than water? Or maybe even vinegar,” she muses, resting her chin on her fist in thought.

All at once, the entire group swivels their heads in her direction.

“What?! I’m just _saying_.”

“You’re terrifying,” Obi Wan whispers, as Anakin, Ahsoka, and Riyo all nod their heads in slow agreement.

 

* * *

 

Anakin enters his house, pizza in hand. It’s only eight, and even though the line at the restaurant had been insanely long, he’s still full of energy, and ready to spend an evening full of his friend’s laughter.

He slams the door behind him and rounds the corner of his entry hallway- only to be met with the sight of all of his friends fast asleep in his living room.

Padme lies on the ottoman in the center of the room, cheek resting on folded hands, her hair spilling over the edge of the furniture in glossy brown waves, as perfect in sleep as she tends to appear in life. Rex dozes on the ground, a couch pillow underneath his head and limbs sprawled wildly. Anakin’s eyes wander towards the armchair, where a slumped Riyo lays, lavender hair splayed across her face, rising and falling with each breath. He follows her hand, stretched out across the armrest, and finds that her fingers are interlocked with Ahsoka’s. Their reigning softball champion lies on the couch, snoring quietly, one hand holding her girlfriend’s, and the other used as a pillow for her head. On the other side of the couch, Obi Wan naps halfway sitting up, his head tilted backwards, eye closed.

Anakin looks at all of them, silently setting the pizza down on the carpet as he makes his way into the room. His heart thumps hard in his chest, and Anakin realizes that he’s looking at all the people he loves in this world, encased in one room. _His family,_ he surprises himself by thinking.

It’s complicated and yet, it also remains the simplest, most effortless thing in Anakin’s life. They’ve threaded themselves into his world and built bonds that he knows he can never shake free, and somewhere along the way, he came to love them all the only way he knows how: fully and by accident, as these people have marked their place in his heart without him even realizing it. He thinks that maybe the uncertain future might not be so bad, as long as they’re around. The soft breathing of his friends fills the room, stirring within him a near foreign feeling: peace.  

Quietly, he makes his way over to the couch, placing himself in between Ahsoka and Obi Wan. Gently, he lifts Ahsoka’s head, substituting her hand with his lap as her pillow. She stirs, blinking sleepy eyes up at him.

“Skyguy,” she whispers happily, looking up at him with a soft smile on her lips, eyelids already beginning to droop closed once again.

“Snips,” he whispers back, his hand gently stroking her hair away from her forehead as she falls back into sleep.

On his other side, Obi Wan shifts, and Anakin makes a split second decision before tugging him close enough to wrap an arm around, resting Obi Wan’s head against his chest. The other boy stirs but doesn’t wake up, nestling himself closer into Anakin’s side. Obi Wan’s hair tickles Anakin’s nose, and he breathes in the sweet scent of cinnamon. Obi Wan’s still asleep, and so for good measure, Anakin presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, before closing his own eyes. He rests his head again Obi Wan’s and tightens his arm around his side, before drifting off into sleep himself, warm and loved and surrounded, in the best of ways.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> make sure to comment/bookmark/give kudos- it motivates me to continue writing and updating this fic!!
> 
> as always, feel free to come talk with me at kcrra.tumblr.com!!


	6. in which obi wan has a lot of regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "WE GET IT. IT'S THE SAND'S FAULT. WE FUCKING KNOW."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay can someone explain to me how literally no matter what time i start writing an update, i finish at 2 am on school night?? because that's what's happened for eveRY SINGLE DAMN CHAPTER SO FAR and that cannot be a coincidence folks.
> 
> i'm sorry for going a week without updating- i was in california for spring break visiting colleges, which was stressful af and super tiring, since i was visiting 9 colleges in 6 days. rip me.
> 
> again, i just wanted to thank you guys so much for the awesome response to this fic. comments make my whole day brighter, kudos are the best, and if you want to come scream with me at kcrra.tumblr.com, you're always welcome!!

 

“You’re a horrible, soulless monster, and I never want to talk to you again,” Anakin says, shaking his head in disgust.

“Look. All I’m saying is that an amusement park hardly counts as an educational field trip,” Padme argues, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Tightening the ponytail on the top of her head, she turns around to make eye contact with him, seated on the bus seat behind her, Ahsoka at his side.

Anakin rolls his eyes, and snickers as Ahsoka uses one hand to flip Padme off, and the other to blow Riyo, who sits next to her, a kiss.

“I know it’s not educational- that’s what makes it so great!”

“Yeah, whatever. I was just hoping that we could do something actually fun for our physics field trip this year, not the ‘science of roller coasters’ or whatever this unit is,” Padme answers, making quotation marks using her fingers

“Lighten up,” Rex offers, seated across the aisle with Obi Wan. “We all deserve this. They’ve been working us so hard lately that I feel more like a soldier than a student. It’s time we got a break.”

“They’ve got a point,” Riyo agrees, and Padme turns to her, betrayal in her eyes.

“You’ve tapped _that_ -” she says, gesturing at Ahsoka, “Every single night this week, so excuse me if I think you might be a bit biased.”

Ahsoka and Anakin high five and whoop loudly, and Padme rolls her eyes, turning to her last hope.

“Obi Wan,” she says sweetly. “What do you think?”

“I’ve got to agree with Padme-” he starts, breaking off as Anakin leans over the aisle of the bus to stroke his hand up Obi Wan’s arm, casually running his fingers through Obi Wan’s hair. Instantly, he’s simultaneously on high alert, and floating towards another planet.

“Aw, c’mon, please? And to think,” Anakin says, voice husky. “I was going to share a caramel apple with you.”

In retrospect, Obi Wan thinks, it’s not really fair how bedroom-esque Anakin can manage to make his voice sound in public.

“Actually, this is a fantastic field trip. I love it. This is the best field trip ever.”

“Okay, so obviously Obi Wan is a fake bitch- his vote doesn’t count,” Padme insists, tipping her head back with a musical laugh. “I know when I’ve lost. Fine. We’ll have fun.”

“Actually, no one is having any fun, or even getting off the bus until you put sunscreen on,” Rex says, waving a bottle of SPF 50 at them. “We are _not_ having a repeat of the Beach Incident.”

“Yes, mom,” Ahsoka says, rolling her eyes.

“In my defense,” Anakin, the sole instigator of said Beach Incident, begins, “It was-”

“THE SAND’S FAULT. WE FUCKING KNOW,” everyone yells in response, all of them completing his sentence at the same time.

 

* * *

 

Anakin’s eyes are wide, shining like a kid in a candy store.

“The mechanics on this ride are _insane_ ,” he saws eagerly, practically bouncing up and down, all while tugging his friends behind him. “I mean, just the technology required to make the pinpoint turns at the degrees of the angles of this ride must have taken years to develop correctly-”

He breaks off suddenly, as all of his friends meet his excited gaze with utter confusion. Even Padme looks unsure of what he’s talking about.

“English, please,” Obi Wan asks, crossing his arms.

“It goes really fast. Vroom, _motherfucking,_ vroom.” Anakin says, slowly and carefully, the way one might speak to a kindergartener.

“We get it, no need for the sass,” Ahsoka says, grinning widely to take the edge off her words. “C’mon! If we get in line now, we can get the first cart!”

She dots a kiss onto Riyo’s cheek.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” She asks mournfully, stroking her girlfriend’s arm.

“I’m afraid of heights,” Riyo reminds her gently. “Don’t worry, my new friends can keep my company.” Turning, she gestures to the mountain of stuffed animals sitting happily on the ground behind her, won for her by Ahsoka. “Have fun, lovely.”

“You guys are so adorable, it’s rotting my teeth out,” Anakin interrupts, linking arms with Ahsoka, and beginning to drag her towards the roller coaster’s line, waving goodbye to Riyo. “Also, you’re wrong. We’re sitting in the back cart- it’s the fastest one!”

“No! The front is better because it has the best view!”

 

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, when they finally reach the front of the line, Obi Wan is busy trying to decide whether the best way to murder Anakin and Ahsoka is to push them onto the tracks of the incoming rollercoaster carts, or throw them off the top of said ride. They’ve spent the entire duration of the line arguing for the back or front of the roller coaster, and if he wasn’t so annoyed, he might even urge them both to join the debate team.

“Okay but listen, the back-”

“Oh, for Force’s sake,” Obi Wan interupts. “Just flip a coin, we’re almost to the front of the line, and neither of you is going to back down.” He doesn’t even bother to suggest they sit in different cart, knowing they’re dead set on riding side by side.

Rex fishes a quarter out of his pocket and tosses it to Ahsoka, who catches it mid air.

“Obi Wan’s right. Pick now, for the benefit of all our sanities, and we can get on the ride.”

Anakin makes a rude gesture at Rex, but takes the coin from Ahsoka and flips it in the air just the same. Slamming it down on his wrist, he whoops.

“Front seat!”

Ahsoka groans, but can’t stop the a smile from creeping its way onto her face. It’s their turn, and she practically leaps into the front seat, squirming excitedly.

Anakin joins her, and Obi Wan sits behind them, next to Padme.

She smiles at him, eyes sparkling.

“First roller coaster?” She guesses, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell Anakin,” Obi Wan whispers back. “He’ll never let me live it down.”

“Too late!” Anakin responds gleefully from the front seat. “You just told me yourself!”

Obi Wan groans, slamming his head against Anakin’s seat. This is going to be one long ride.

 

* * *

 

They’re on the final loop when Obi Wan realizes three things.

 

One: He does not like rollercoasters, at all, in anyway, and if he survives this, he’s never stepping foot on one again.

Two: The two caramel apples, bag of popcorn, and large soda he shared with Anakin before the ride were a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea.

Three: He is going to throw up. 

In his defense, he tries to lean out over the side of the cart, he really does- but just because the universe hates him, that’s the exact moment that the ride chooses to take its sharpest turn yet, forcing his head back against the seat, and the vomit coming out of it onto the unlucky head of the person seated in front of him.

Of course, the person sitting in front of him is none other than Anakin. _Of course it is._

Obi Wan immediately regrets ever being born.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Anakin screams as the vomit hits the back of his head with a splat sound, the moment of confusion before realization sets in.

The rollercoaster pulls into the loading station, and instead of the loud chatter usually following a ride, the boarding area is dead silent, as everyone, from patrons to park workers, to the rest of their friends, realize what has happened to Anakin.

“Oh my Force. _Oh my Force_ . For the love of the Force, please, no. Please. I’m a good person, I don’t deserve this. Oh, for the god damn love of the fucking Force, please, _no_.” Anakin whimpers, before falling into a disturbing silence.

“Please tell me what I think just happened, didn’t happen.” Padme says, climbing out of her seat next to Obi Wan and hurrying over to the front cart. There, Ahsoka has scrambled out, away from the vomit. Obi Wan notices a few splatters on her shoulder and side, but mostly, she has been spared the true horror. The same cannot be said for Anakin.

The teenager in questions sits frozen in place, as though perhaps if he does not move, this nightmare will all be a dream and he will wake up safe and clean in his own bed. The back of his hair is matted to his head with what can only be referred to as mysterious stomach fluids, and his neck, lower face, and most of his chest have not survived the assault.

It covers even his curls, and Obi Wan feels his stomach lurch again as an unidentifiable chunk of _something_ , drops from Anakin’s hair to his shoulder with a sickening plop sound.

“Anakin-” he starts, but for all his debate trophies and Model UN experience, Obi Wan is speechless. What the _fuck_ do you say to your hot friend that you just vomited on?

Anakin doesn’t move, still staring into blank space. Honestly, Obi Wan thinks, Anakin kind of looks as though he might pass out, and Padme must agree, because she reaches out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and retracting quickly. Instead, she snaps her fingers in front of his face several times. Anakin’s eyes refocus themselves, but he doesn’t move.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says, in the hollow voice of a damaged man who will never truly be the same, “Please assist me in getting to the restroom.”

To her endless credit, Ahsoka only hesitates for a second before reaching into the cart and quite literally hauling him out, muscles flexing, as Anakin has gone boneless. Once he has two feet on the ground, he seems to regain enough energy to stand, and Ahsoka places his arm around her neck.

Obi Wan watches as she fights her gag reflex at the smell, but the face Ahsoka shows Anakin has nothing but determination on it.

“Skyguy,” she says, supporting him as he stumbles out of the cart. “There’s a restroom just down the steps and off to the side. We can wash you off once we make it there. Think you can do it?”

  
“Snips,” Anakin scoffs, with the first emotion he’s shown since what will forever go down in history as The Incident. “I was just vomited on, and I’m still alive. I can do _anything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> make sure to add a comment if you feel like it!! in the past, i haven't replied to comments, but i've decided that i definitely want to start communicating with you guys more about this fic, so please feel free to include any questions in your comments (i'll do my best to answer) or just leave one because seriously, it makes my entire day better when you guys comment, and makes updating this fic a pleasure.
> 
> please leave a kudos if you haven't already!! i know i sound super thirsty, lmao, but knowing that you guys are enjoying and appreciating my writing is super, super important to me and updates, so that's why. as always, i love you all!!
> 
> p.s. our first obikin kiss is coming up next chapter. i know it should have been a surprise, but its going to be the longest chapter yet and i'm way too excited not to tell you. 


	7. in which anakin is not subtle at all and obi wan is oblivious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey my lovelies!! i'm sorry this update took so much longer than usual: the finale of swr quite literally ruined my entire fucking life, and i just needed some "me" time to recover and cry and not have to worry about fic updating. if you want an idea of the state i was in after the finale, i guess the best thing to say would be that while watching the vader vs. ahsoka fight, i cried so hard i fucKING??? THREW UP?? AMAZING.
> 
> ANWAYS, i am back again, and feeling a little bit better. I'm still not 100%, but at writing this fic never fails to make me smile. hopefully, i'll also be able to update thursday or friday of this week, if all goes well. and hey, guess what? this is my first chapter to break 2,000 words!!
> 
> enjoy, my loves!

 

 

“No,” Anakin says. “The first teal one was okay, but this one- I don’t know. It just seems too colorful, you know?”

“You’re only saying that because you only dress in shades of black and sometimes, very dark grey,” Ahsoka snaps, but heads back into her dressing room anyways.

They’re the only two in the dressing room of the Trade Federation & Co. mall, and for that, Anakin is grateful. He’ll whine and complain to keep up a front, sure, but in reality, it’s fun sitting on a plush chair, helping Ahsoka pick out her homecoming dress while playing that new cat game on his phone. It’s peaceful, and god knows, with college applications, he gets so little moments of quiet, that this moment with his best friend is valued, special, and rare.

It would have been nice if the others could join them, he supposes, but for now, he likes having Ahsoka to himself. Between her softball season, Riyo, and junior year, they haven’t had as much time to hang out, just the two of them. Silently, he thanks the universe for the happy accident of today- after all, they were supposed to have Riyo and Padme come with them.

But as it had turned out, Riyo was making her own dress, and didn’t want Ahsoka to see it until the day of, and Padme had sniffed something about “the atrocities of buying retail”, when they’d invited her along.

“Honestly, you two,” she’d said, “You’ve seen how I dress for school, and that’s well, school. You think I’d purchase off the rack for my senior homecoming dance? No way.”

He laugh quietly to himself at the memory, before bringing himself back as Ahsoka asks him a question.

“Okay, how about this one?”

Ahsoka comes out in a mustard yellow dress next, one that Anakin is about to open his mouth to tell her to literally burn the minute it is off her body, that’s how bad it looks, when a little old lady interrupts them. Leaning on her cane, she smiles fondly at the two.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your date,” she begins, “But I just wanted to let you both know how lovely of a couple you are. It’s not often a boyfriend comes in with his girlfriend to pick out her prom dress. You two are just adorable.”

Anakin shudders, while Ahsoka makes a gagging noise, and the woman looks extremely confused.

“We’re not dating,” they say at the exact same time, deadpan. They’ve been at the mall five hours, and this is the fourth person to tell them how cute of a couple they are. The shock wore off after the second.

As the lady hobbles away, mumbling something about love being dead, Ahsoka turns to Anakin.

“Did I ever tell you how Riyo thought we were dating too?”

“No!”

“Yes,” she says, giggling. “Apparently, we can’t be ‘just friends’ since we’re of the opposite gender, and thus, _must_ just be desperate to bang each other.”

Anakin snorts. “So, essentially, the hetero agenda.”

Ahsoka laughs, stepping back inside the changing room.

“Speaking of agendas,” she says, through the door, “What about you and Obi Wan?”

Anakin, like the genius his 139 point IQ deems him to be, formulates a witty and intelligent answer.

“Um, what?”

“You know,” Ahsoka responds, and Anakin can hear her struggling with the zipper on a dress, “The fact that you want to date him, and settle down from your extensive list of booty calls and boy toys.”

“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just- uh, can’t tie me down!”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes as she steps out of the dressing room, twirling around in front of the mirror.

“I take it back- that’s the biggest load of bantha shit I’ve ever heard. Anyway, what do you think of this one?”

Anakin looks up from his phone.

“Meh. I liked the black one better. And what the hell do you mean by, that’s a load of bantha shit?”

“I mean,” Ahsoka says, stepping back into the changing room and throwing the dress over the door for Anakin to catch and place in the reject pile, “That you’re so thirsty for Obi Wan that you’re starting to remind me of our trip to Tatooine last summer.”

“Snips, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t compare me to that sand heap,” Anakin responds, purposely avoiding the other half of her statement.

“If I really loved you, I’d call Obi Wan right now, and ask him to homecoming for you,” Ahsoka responds, emerging from the dressing cubicle in a maroon dress, striking a pose. “What do you think?”

“Of the dress, or your dumbass plan, which won’t be happening?”

“The dress.”

A grin spreads over Anakin’s face like the dawning of the sun. “That’s the one. Seriously, Snips, you look so incredibly beautiful. Riyo’s really, really lucky.”

Ahsoka wrinkles her nose. “Skyguy, don’t get me wrong, I love you too, but that just sounded really heterosexual of you.”

“I know, I know,” Anakin answers, and steps up next to Ahsoka. Pulling out his phone, he snaps a selfie of the two of them in the mirror, their faces screwed up with tongues sticking out, looking completely stupid- and utterly happy.

“Is this one snapchat story worthy?” He asks Ahsoka, handing her his phone for approval.

She looks over the photo, swiping to put a filter on it, before nodding and posting it for him. “Save that one and send it to me over text, I need a new phone background,” she says, heading back into the dressing room.

“Already one step ahead of you, Snips.”

Ahsoka’s back in the changing room, but her previous words are still racing through his head. Maybe if-

Reopening snapchat, he sends a selfie to Obi Wan, captioning it simply, “Homecoming?”

There. It’s casual enough that if he’s rejected, nothing has to change between them, but insinuates enough that Obi Wan can make the jump if he wants.

It’s only a few seconds before he has his response, a photo of Obi Wan’s disarming smile, with a caption that sets Anakin’s heart beating in his chest so hard that he can barely breathe.

“Of course,” the snapchat reads, and Anakin can’t hold back his beaming grin as he places his phone back in his pocket.

 

 

* * *

 

The squad had plans to meet together in front of the school, to take photos and exchange flowers (Rex and Padme, refusing to be left out of the rest of their friends coupling up, are taking each other, albeit platonically) thirty minutes before the dance, and Anakin is running just a teeny bit late.

Okay, he’s twenty minutes late, so sue him.

“Fucking finally,” Padme growls as he walks up, and Anakin has to stop and blink at the sight of her, breathtakingly beautiful in a gown that’s way too nice for a school dance. “Let’s take our photos, now that _this_ asshole has finally decided to show his face.”

“Hey!”

Padme throws him a winning smile, the kind that might honestly make someone forgive her for straight up committing a murder, and Anakin’s annoyance dissipates.

He looks around, and his eyes land on Obi Wan, standing awkwardly off to the side, and if he thought Padme looked amazing, well, it’s nothing compared to the way his head squeezes itself to dust in his chest at the sight of Obi Wan.

“Hey, uh,” he begins, walking up to him, fumbling awkwardly as he pulls out the rose he bought for Obi Wan and handing it to him, “This is for you. For, uh, your lapel.”

_Great job, Anakin._

Obi Wan smiles that beautiful, blinding smile, and gently squeezes his hand.

After that, the pictures pass in a blur. He takes some with Obi Wan, a ton with Ahsoka (most of which involve strange faces and rude hand gestures, but whatever), and even a few with Rex and Padme, respectively. The group manages to rope a random student into taking a few photos of the squad as whole, and before they know it, the sun has set and it is time for the dance to begin. They head inside, stopping in the hallway to make final adjustments to outfits, and the like.

Anakin has been passing this evening in a daze of happiness- he is grateful, with every single heartbeat, that by some miracle, these people came into his world. That they are his, and that he is theirs. That they love him without expecting him to be anything he is not. He doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve them, but damn, is he thankful. As Ahsoka smiles at him, and Obi Wan’s hand brushes his gently, as Padme throws her gorgeous hair over her shoulder with a laugh, and Rex cracks a joke, Anakin realizes that this is it for him, for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t need anything more than these people beside him, alive and well and breathing. Everything else in the entire world is just that: everything else, insignificant in the wake of his breathless love for them all. They are his family, this ragtag group of friends. They are his home.

 

* * *

 

Strangely enough, it is Ahsoka’s commentary on Padme’s choice of wardrobe that manages to jerk Anakin out of his thoughts, and back to the present moment.

“It’s a high school homecoming, not fashion week! This is literally Anakin-level of extra, oh my god.”

“Hey!”

Obi Wan raises an eyebrow at Anakin, who immediately begins to pout, crossing his arms.

“I’m not extra!” He whines, stomping his foot.

Ahsoka snorts. “Skyguy, you’re literally being extra right now. Like, as we speak, you are being extra.”

Anakin recovers from his slouch quickly, and uncrosses his arms.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t. This is ridiculous. This is libel. This is slander, and honestly, I can’t believe Obi Wan is letting this stand.”

“What’s this got to do with me?!”

Anakin huffs, as though Obi Wan has just asked him to explain how to unlock a car.

“As my date,” Anakin says, “You have to defend my honor.”

“Wait, _WHAT_?”

“I said, as my date-”

“No, no,” Obi Wan says, raising up a hand to stop Anakin from speaking, and he has to admit, he’s a little proud of himself for not passing out, or vomiting (for the love of the force, will he ever be able to live the amusement park down?), or breathing heavily. _10/10,_ he thinks. _Situation under control._

“I’m your _date_ !?” He asks, and his voice squeaks on the last note. _Aw, force._

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, clearing her throat loudly. Obi Wan jumps- for a second, he’d forgotten everyone else still existed, wrapped up in his own personal drama.

“Anyway,” she says, “Riyo and I are going to go hook up in the janitor’s closet. Don’t wait up.”

“Ahsoka!” Riyo yelps, skin going crimson against the lavender of her gown and hair.

“What?!” Ahsoka answers, reaching for Riyo’s arm. “It’s true!”

The other girl makes a noncommittal noise, taking Ahsoka’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

“Have fun!” Ahsoka chirps, the little shit that she is, and the two take off down the hallway, giggling.

Obi Wan makes a mental note that the next time Ahsoka needs help on her physics homework, she can go fuck herself. Or Riyo, probably more accurately.

Anakin stares at Padme and Rex, flicking his eyes into the gym. Padme takes the hint instantly, pushing a perfect curl behind an ear sparkling with diamonds.

“Rex?” She says, holding out her arm, and even though it’s phrased like a question, it’s clearly  a command. The boy in question snaps forward, taking her arm and leading her into the gym.

“Fives is gonna _shit_ himself,” Rex says, practically skipping with joy at having Padme Amidala on his arm in front of all of his teasing brothers.

The hall thumps with the muffled beat of the music, but other than that, it is silent, and the air between Anakin and Obi Wan feels almost electrically charged.

“No offense, Obi Wan,” Anakin says, “But how did you not realize this was a date?”

“You snapchatted me to ask! I thought you meant with the group!”

“I got you a flower for your lapel,” Anakin says, deadpan, pointing at Obi Wan’s boutonniere.

“I thought you were being nice!”

“We took date photos.”

“I just, I mean- No offense, Anakin, but you can’t really blame me, because I’ve liked you since  ninth grade and you’ve been flirting with me about just as long without making a genuine move, so _excuse me_ for not realizing that this was the real deal!” Obi Wan spits out, and then resists the urge to clap his hands over his stupid, stupid mouth.

_Damn it._

“What?” Anakin says, and the shit eating grin on his face is making Obi Wan want to straight up grab a shovel and dig his own grave right here, in the hallway of Coruscant High School. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t hear you.”

“Asshole,” Obi Wan mutters.

“What?” Anakin repeats, feigning ignorance.

Obi Wan splutters indignantly. “You know what I said!”

“Oh, yeah,” Anakin says, and in a flash, Obi Wan has his back against the wall and a face full of blue eyes and a crooked grin. He gulps.

“What did you say?” Anakin asks again, and the fingers of one hand brush gently against the back of Obi Wan’s neck, creating a shiver he feels down to his very soul.

“Oh, fuck it,” Obi Wan says, and tugs Anakin down to his own height, closing his eyes as their lips meet.

It’s not a perfect kiss, not by a long shot- their teeth clack together ever so slightly once they make contact, and Obi Wan feels bumbling and awkward and out of his element, but once Anakin realizes what’s happening, and rests his hands on the sides of Obi Wan’s face, pulling him closer, then- oh. _Oh._

Anakin kisses like a forest fire, all consuming, warm hands roaming and a hot mouth swallowing him whole, turning Obi Wan to ash in his hands.

He is all too content to burn.

Anakin leans forward, gently nipping at Obi Wan’s lip, not enough to hurt, but he jerks away in surprise just the same.

“Ow!” Obi Wan yelps. “What the fuck was that?!”

Anakin pulls away immediately, sputtering. “I was- I mean, that’s how I-”

Obi Wan’s face breaks into a smirk, and with a reckless, almost Anakin-like stab of courage, he reaches out and pulls Anakin back towards him.

“I was joking,” he whispers, and Anakin nods his head frantically as blue eyes meet grey.

“What are you waiting for?” Obi Wan asks, sliding his arms around Anakin’s neck.

“Do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so first of all, because i'm a fucking loser???? i actually spent a lot of time deciding on my girl's homecoming dresses, here's [ahsoka's](https://pc-ap.renttherunway.com/productimages/side/1080x/d5/SW91.jpg), [padme's](https://pc-ap.renttherunway.com/productimages/front/1080x/81/MN14.jpg), and [riyo's](http://g01.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1oUJXIXXXXXXlXpXXq6xXFXXXQ/Short-sleeves-Cheap-Lavender-Purple-Homecoming-Dresses-Sheer-Mini-A-Line-Crew-Flowers-Custom-Made-Chiffon.jpg). tbh the guys are all just wearing suits honestly, how much of a variation is there in between suits??? the answer: none. yawn.
> 
> another thing: every time i write makeout scenes i feel like a filthy little LIAR because i've only kissed three people in my life, and they've all been girls and its all been v loving and gentle, sO anYWAYs,,,, I'm hoping this wasn't too terrible and was at least semi realistic and maybe kinda sorta hot, if i did well? let me know pls, your comments mean literally everything to me.
> 
> i'm serious though, comments are my world. please leave one down below and feel free to ask any questions about the characters + events and/or make a suggestion for something you'd like to see the #squad get up to in the next chapter. i'm always looking for new ideas of what to do for the next update, so please feel free to let me know what you want to read. even if you don't leave a comment, please leave a kudos, and as always, thank you so much for reading.
> 
> p.s. feel free to stop by my tumblr, kcrra.tumblr.com, to yell about these losers or even just to say hi!


	8. in which broom closets are utilized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Really? This is coming from the guy who shows up fifteen minutes late to our Starbucks date with Starbucks from another location?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends!!! i wanted to start off by apologizing for taking two weeks to update- i usually try to post weekly but unfortunately, i have several mental illnesses that have been completely kicking my ass lately. obvs, in terms of writing fic, that's not ideal, but this fic and your feedback/your enjoyment of it is so important to me that i really am trying as hard as i can to keep updating as often as possible.
> 
> i hope you guys can understand that sometimes, just getting out of bed can be really hard for me, and so updates occasionally have to take the back burner. that being said, i worked really hard on this chapter, and so i hope you like it!! 
> 
> enjoy, lovelies!!

 

“You know,” Anakin says, raising an eyebrow at Ahsoka, “While I don’t mind you texting me saying that you have an amazing idea for the squad that you just had to share with me, I wish you hadn’t felt the need to do it so damn early in the morning.”

“It’s literally two o’clock.”

“Exactly,” Anakin answers, before taking a large gulp of coffee.

“Yeah, well, you’re a baby, and that’s on you,” Ahsoka says, leaning forward in her chair, close enough to hear over the sounds of the bustling Starbucks around them. “Okay, are you ready? Because this is seriously, like, genius. I already called to reserve us a spot and everything. It’s going to be next weekend, so clear your calendar.”

“Oh, shit, are we finally going to hit up that new strip club downtown? Because my fake ID could honestly use a bit of refreshing-”

“No, you idiot,” Ahsoka interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I have a girlfriend now, so strip clubs are out.”

“You could always bring her along,” Anakin suggests, wincing at Ahsoka’s glare. “Okay, okay, fine! I get it, you’re whipped as fuck. Now, what’s the idea?”

“Camping!” Ahsoka chirps, and she looks so excited, so proud of herself, that Anakin almost feels bad for crushing her idea like a bug underneath his heel. Almost.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, no?!”

“Snips, that’s exactly what I fucking meant. No.”

“Who put a stick up _your_ ass?”

“Camping is stupid. It’s unnecessary, and it’s dumb, and I’m not going.”

Ahsoka snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Really? “Unnecessary,” coming from the guy who shows up fifteen minutes late to our Starbucks date with Starbucks from another location?!”

“The baristas at the other one are cuter,” Anakin snaps, leaning back in his chair. “And besides, the ones here always laugh at me when I order.”

“Um, I’ll have a venti triple shot Caramel Macchiato with half fat, chilled at 37 degrees,” Ahsoka drawls out, pitching her voice to sound eerily like Anakin’s. “Of course they laugh at you- you do realize how complicated your order is, right?”

“In my defense,” Anakin huffs, taking a sip of said drink, “Coffee is an art, so sue me for wanting them to get it right.”

“Drama queen.”

“You love me,” Anakin says, crumpling up a straw wrapper and throwing it at her, pumping his fist when it lodges itself in her braids.

“Force help me, for some reason, I do,” Ahsoka answers, sticking her tongue out at him as she pulls out the wrapper from her hair, tossing it back his way.

“Anyway,” she continues, “Your opinion is irrelevant at this point. Everyone else likes the idea, so you don’t really get a choice anymore, unless you want to tell Padme why you don’t wanna come with us.”

Anakin shudders at the suggestion, and knows she’s got him.

“But first,” Ahsoka says, steamrolling forwards, “We’ve all decided that you and Obi Wan have to work out what happened at homecoming, because I refuse to end up stranded in the wilderness in the middle of your angst fest, which, with our luck, is something that will happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anakin deadpans, burying his face in his coffee, and looking decidedly anywhere but Ahsoka’s piercing gaze. “And even if I did- what do you mean by “we”, plural?”

“Rex, Padme, Riyo and I,” Ahsoka answers, waving her hand dismissively. “You and Obi Wan have been weird as shit since- well, since forever, but it’s been especially awful since whatever it was that happened at the dance, and all of us are caught in the middle of it. I’m sick of playing bodyguard every time you two pass each other in the hall, Padme’s missing having someone even slightly on her conversation level when it comes to politics, and Riyo asked me yesterday if Obi Wan had died, or some shit. Force, he hasn’t even eaten lunch with us this week! We’re not trying to meddle, but honestly, without his help, Rex and I are going to fail science.”

Ahsoka cracks a small smile, leaning across the table to take Anakin’s free hand in hers.  

“Skyguy,” she says, and her voice is gentler, soft around the edges, like he’s some kind of wounded animal, and Anakin _hates_ it, hates feeling like Ahsoka pities him, hates feeling weak like this, small and hurt and fragile.

“You haven’t been yourself. You’re here, but anyone with eyes can see that your mind is a million miles away. And, side note, I know for a fact that you hooked up with Quinlan Vos, of all people, and I’m pretty sure you only did it because you know Obi Wan detests him. ”

“Okay, Quinlan Vos is hot, alright-”

Ahsoka silences him with a look, and Anakin shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

“Anakin.”

“Ahsoka,” he returns, dread clawing his insides to dust, “I’m telling you- it’s nothing. Obi Wan and I, well, nothing happened.”

“Judging by the fact that when I came out into the hall to tell you to get your ass inside because they were playing Trap Queen, you had your tongue shoved so far down Obi Wan’s throat that I’m pretty sure I saw it sticking out of his ass, that’s a load of poodoo.”

Anakin sighs and puts down his drink, appetite gone.

“I just- I don’t know how I feel about the whole thing yet, I guess,” he says, and Anakin’s heart twists in his chest with the lie, stale and bitter on his tongue.

He _does_ know how he feels about Obi Wan pretending that their kiss never happened, knows how he feels about Obi Wan avoiding him in the school hallways, not meeting his eyes, and not having said a word to him since Friday night. It’s just that there aren’t words to describe the way he’d felt his stomach freefall when the kisses, plural, had finally ended, and Obi Wan had pulled away and met his eyes with utter panic and confusion instead of the warmth Anakin could feel in his own.

That’s just it- Anakin had laid all his cards on the table, and Obi Wan had kissed him back and Anakin had been so _fucking_ happy, because it meant that Obi Wan had felt the same way after all this time, and now, here they are, a week later, and Anakin still cannot shake the way Obi Wan practically ran from the hallway once Ahsoka had seen them kissing.

It’s been a straight week of avoiding him- of smiles being met with grimaces, of the other boy turning around in the hallway when Anakin waves, of a sinking feeling in his stomach that he cannot shake. They can’t move forward, but they can’t go backwards either, not after the way stars had exploded behind Anakin’s eyes at the feeling of Obi Wan’s lips on his. Instead, there is an endless chasm between them, and it’s filling up with all the things they have not said.

Anakin supposes that it’d be easiest just to forget, but he can’t. He’s kissed a million guys- Obi Wan, he’s tried to tell himself, is just one of the masses. It shouldn’t, couldn’t, _doesn’t_ matter.

Unfortunately, Anakin’s never been a good liar.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka Tano is the worst best friend _ever_ , and Anakin is never going to tell her anything, ever again.

After all, him actually telling her shit is the reason he finds himself in this position now: strong armed down the hallway by a very determined junior, and pulled to a stop in front of a broom closet door.

“I have Obi Wan in there already,” Ahsoka chirps happily, and Anakin can barely do anything but stare at her in shock, slack jawed.

“You what?” he says, but unfortunately, he heard her the first time.

“I threw Obi Wan into the broom closet, and now I’m putting you in there, and locking the door, so you two can talk,” Ahsoka says, speaking slowly and enunciating every word carefully. “You’re welcome, and you can thank me later for getting you laid. I accept food, verbal praise, and gas money as viable forms of currency.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says slowly, attempting to appease her, the way one might a wild animal, “I appreciate the thought, but-”

“This is your chance, dumbass,” Ahsoka snaps. “Go talk to him.”

“Ahsoka-” he says, and his voice sounds desperate even to his own ears, cornered and helpless in the face of feelings that shake him to his very core.

“Seriously,  if you start bitching, I’m going to have to physically fight you. This is my favorite broom closet to hook up with Riyo in, and I’m sacrificing valuable time that could be better spent in between my girlfriend’s thighs, all because I’m an absolutely wonderful friend.”

For a second, all Anakin can do is gap at her, mind torn from Obi Wan, and placed on the fact that Ahsoka has been having sex on school grounds.

“You’re depraved,” he whispers hoarsely, shaking his head.

“I know- it’s great,” she replies airily, pushing him more insistently towards  door. “Now, go in.”

“Ahsoka, please don’t make me do this, I can’t.”

“Why not?” she hisses, rolling her eyes.

Anakin wants so badly to explain. _Because I’m scared,_ he wants to say. _Because this boy makes my heart feel like coming home and that scares me like nothing ever has before, because I am terrified that I love everyone else in this world more than they love me, because I want him, and because I cannot be brave when I am so desperately afraid that he does not want me in return._

But, of course, because his head is a fucking idiot, and his mouth is good for absolutely nothing, what comes out is:

“Well, uh, I can’t talk to him because....because, um, because- _no hablo ingles_?”

Ahsoka looks like she wants to punch him in the face.

“God, no wonder you failed spanish class last year,” is the last thing she says, before yanking open the door, and shoving Anakin into the broom closet with a borderline freakish amount of strength that really, he should expect from Coruscant High’s star softball player.

The room is dark, and thanks to Ahsoka, Anakin falls face forward (despite her killer pitching arm, Ahsoka’s aim with throwing human bodies, as it appears, leaves a lot to be desired). Letting out a yelp as the lock of the door clicks shut behind him, he splays his hands out to catch himself- but instead of the hard floor, his arms make contact with something else- or more accurately, someone.

* * *

 

Obi Wan manages to catch Anakin before he falls on top of him, arms tight around the other boy’s biceps, and before he even has a chance to enjoy that ( _honestly, why are they so muscular, does the Force hate him or something_ ), he remembers the fact that their stupid, scheming friends are meddling in his love life, that he’s been avoiding Anakin all week, and that Ahsoka might possibly have her ear to the door outside, which, frankly, puts a bit of a damper on the situation at hand.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he says, the words ghosting out into the space between them.

Anakin laughs, the sound harsh in the darkness of the room, and Obi Wan resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“What,” he asks, voice crisp and businesslike, “Is so funny?”

Anakin snorts, pulling his arms out of Obi Wan’s grip and stepping back a few paces. In the dim of the room, Obi Wan can just make out the harsh expression Anakin’s face he crosses his arms.

“Don’t act like everything’s fine,” Anakin says, and Obi Wan has to resist flinching at his tone, cold and detached, so unlike the boy in front of him, usually so painfully passionate about everything, to the point of annoyance.

“I’m not!” Obi Wan snaps back, guard going up as he crosses his own arms, cursing the few inches Anakin has on him- usually, he finds a certain appeal in the way Anakin towers over him, but right now, in the middle of an argument, it’s nothing short of infuriating.

“This is the first time you’ve spoken to me since Friday, Obi Wan, don’t pretend like everything’s fine.”

“Oh, boo hoo, Anakin, I’m sorry it’s so hard for you to have a booty call turn you down.”

“What!?”

Obi Wan grimaces, masking the hurt in his tone with sarcasm.

“We both know that- well, whatever Friday was, it wasn’t real to you. It was just a hookup, which may be fine with you, but I’m not really into being used, so excuse me for ignoring you all week.”

“That’s a lie,” Anakin nearly growls, and Obi Wan blinks at him, face kept carefully blank.

“What?”

“I said,” Anakin answers, backing Obi Wan up against the wall, “That’s a lie. It wasn’t just a hookup for me. I took you on a date to homecoming because that’s exactly what I want to do- date you.”

“Wait, what?! Okay, well then, if that true, how come-”

Anakin surges forward, crashing their lips together, and Obi Wan can’t even bring himself to be frustrated at being cut off mid sentence. The kiss is rough, and clumsy, and everything he’s wanted.

“Anakin-” Obi Wan pants, breaking the kiss, cursing the heat that rushes towards his face and- _other places_ , as the taller boy lets out a growl and attempts to kiss him once again.

“Hold on,” he insists, hands resting on Anakin’s chest. “We have to talk.”

Anakin leans down again and kisses Obi Wan so hard he sees stars, before pulling away, breathing heavily.  

“Mmm. There’s more exciting things to do than talk,” Anakin says, and _fuck_ , this isn’t fair, and Obi Wan is going to have to sue whoever is responsible for making Anakin Skywalker this infuriatingly attractive.

He takes a shaky breath, summoning up all of his willpower to push a few inches between them as he deliberately ignores the pout on Anakin’s face.

“Yes,” he says, “But we are are going to talk- about us, and what this is and-” Obi Wan breaks off with a groan as Anakin leans down to nip at the skin at the hollow of his throat.

“Anakin, I’m serious,” he gasps out, pulling away. “I meant what I said before- this is more than just a hookup to me- I can’t just do this and then pretend like all I want is to be your friend, when really-”

“Obi Wan,” Anakin says, and now his voice is less of a sultry growl and instead something much more gentle, “Look at me. I know I put on this- this attitude, where I act like I don’t need anyone, or anything, and that I’m, like, cool and untouchable and independent but, uh, the truth is that I, uh, really don’t feel that way inside at all, and so I’m afraid that maybe it’s not really _me_ you like, but this idea you have of me and-”

Anakin stops mid sentence, biting his lip and looking away, and Obi Wan’s heart aches.

“Anakin,” he says, catching the other boy’s eyes, “I know that. No offense- we all knew that. You may be the ‘football player with no fear’, or whatever, but with us, at least, Ahsoka and Padme and Rex and me- we know who you really are.”

Obi Wan reaches out, hand hesitant and gentle, and cups Anakin’s face, turning it towards him and thumbing the side of his lip.

“And well,” he says, not breaking eye contact, “We like you because of who you really are. _I_ like you because of who you really are.”

“So then why’d you run away and avoid me all week long?”

Obi Wan takes a deep breath, dropping his hand from Anakin’s face and breaking eye contact.

“Because,” he says, “I’m scared.”

Anakin raises an eyebrow, his thumb tracing soft circles on Obi Wan’s cheek.

“I’m just me, and I can’t imagine how that can possibly be enough, and that’s why I ran, and avoided you, and pretended like it hadn’t happened- because I was scared it didn’t matter to you like it did to me, and because- Anakin, I’m just _me_.”

“Exactly,” Anakin says, and now it’s his turn to gently turn Obi Wan’s face towards his until their eyes are once again locked, sparkling in the darkness of the storage closet. “You’re you, and I think you’re extraordinary.”

He leans down, and when Obi Wan opens his mouth to meet him halfway, he can’t tell if Anakin is trying to simply kiss him, or devour him entirely, body and soul.

Anakin breaks the kiss suddenly, breathing heavily.

“For the record,” he says, and there is no edge to his words, “That kiss? It did matter to me. It still does.”

And _Force_ , Obi Wan thinks, as he yanks Anakin back towards him, as their lips meet again, who knew the expression of genuine emotion could be so attractive?

 

* * *

 

It’s only until twenty minutes later, when Anakin suddenly decides it’s time to remove his shirt, that Obi Wan realizes something.

“Anakin, we’re hooking up in a fucking broom closet! This is exactly what Ahsoka wanted.”

“Well,” Anakin answers, smirking. “Remind me to thank her the next time I see her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> w h e w. so, that's actually my first chapter of a less episodic nature, and more of a continuation of sorts- it just didn't feel right for them to get together with no complication, you know??
> 
> please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter. reviews are my whole entire world- they keep this fic going and remind me that people actually appreciate all the hard work i put into this fic, which is kinda like my baby. also, feel free to ask any questions about the characters + events and/or make a suggestion for something you'd like to see the #squad get up to in the next chapter. i'm always looking for new ideas of what to do for the next update, so please feel free to let me know what you want to read. even if you don't leave a comment, please leave a kudos, and as always, thank you so much for reading.
> 
> p.s. a few of you stopped by to talk about the fic with me/leave a review on my tumblr, kcrra.tumblr.com, and it seriously made my entire freaking week. thank you so much, you little angels.
> 
> p.p.s. in case you didn't gather from this chapter, next update, we'll be seeing the gang go camping!! i have some really cute plans for it- including my first mini arc centering on padme!!


	9. in which padme is Extra about packing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a two day camping trip! Seriously, in what Force loving universe would you need three suitcases for a two day camping trip?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, my loves!! i am so happy to finally be able to update this fic. my mental state hasn't been super fantastic lately, as i've said before, so i really want to say how much i've appreciated not only your incredibly supportive comments, but also your patience. i love you guys and i love this fic so much- and you have my word that even if there is a an extended time in between updates, i will absolutely not abandon this work!!
> 
> i hope you guys like this chapter!! its the first chapter i've had that really focuses more on padme, so please let me know what you think. i know i usually take it from obi wan or anakin's point of view (along with the occasional ahsoka pov chapter) so i'd love to hear what you all think of this one.
> 
> please enjoy, and i love you guys so much!!

* * *

 

The first thing Anakin does when he pulls up to Padme’s house, bright and early on Saturday morning, is scream.

"Oh, for the love of the Force, it’s a two day camping trip!” Anakin yells, and Padme doesn’t even bother looking up from her compact until she’s finished reapplying her lip gloss. Shooting him sardonic smile, Padme wiggles her fingers at the luggage sitting beside her, one freshly waxed eyebrow raised expectantly. Ahsoka groans from her seat in shotgun, but steps out of the car to load Padme’s bags into the trunk nevertheless. As Padme slides into the backseat, Anakin tosses Ahsoka a five dollar bill, and Padme watches as the younger girl catches the money triumphantly.

“We bet on how many bags you’d have,” Ahsoka explains, whipping around in her seat to make eye contact with Padme. “I said three, and Skyguy said two.”  

Ahsoka pauses, turning back to Anakin and giggling as she proceeds to blow him a raspberry.  Anakin looks up from texting Obi Wan on his phone long enough to push Ahsoka’s snapback down over her eyes, and to pull on her hair.

“Children,” Padme says as she buckles her seatbelt, her voice ringing clearly with affection. “Literal, actual children.”

Anakin proceeds to flip her the bird in his rearview mirror as he turns the key of his car, and Artoo, his extremely modified Jeep, rumbles to life. Gunning the ignition, he peels out of her driveway, and Padme sighs. It wouldn't be Anakin’s driving without the reckless endangerment.

“Hey,” Ahsoka says, looking up from her phone to poke Anakin’s shoulder. “Can we stop at Starbucks before we get the others?”

“No,” Anakin sighs, rolling his eyes. “We’re already late to pick up Obi Wan, and you know how preachy he gets about punctuality-”

“I’ll pay,” Padme pipes up from the back, and immediately, Anakin straightens.

“Starbucks sounds delicious, Snips. What a great suggestion!”

 

* * *

 

As the barista hands them their drinks through the drive-through window, Anakin scoffs.

“Padme, I cannot believe you just embarrassed me by ordering plain black coffee at a Starbucks, you heathen. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life-”

“Really?” Ahsoka asks, cutting Anakin off mid sentence. Taking a loud slurp of her latte, she grins so widely that Padme can see glint of her canine teeth, sharp and pointed like a predator’s. “How about that time when you asked that guy-”

“Let’s not do this,” Anakin interrupts, hastily changing the subject.

 

* * *

 

Three stops and five songs later on Anakin’s roadtrip playlist (featuring mostly a lot of pop punk emo shit that Padme’s never heard before in her life), they’ve finally managed to pick up the rest of their family.

Rex sits on Padme’s right, leaning over her to chat animately with Ahsoka sitting shotgun, while Obi Wan lays on her left, listening to an audiobook on his phone. Every couple of minutes, he’ll reach forward to stroke the back of Anakin’s neck affectionately in a manner that Padme worries is going to result in a car crash, but hey- it’s kind of sweet, so she bites back the urge to make a speech about distracted driving.

Riyo, the smallest and lightest of them all, sits on Padme’s lap. Anakin’s car technically only seats five- but that’s more than her sports car or Obi Wan’s Prius can claim. She doesn’t mind- the Riyo is petite, and her lavender hair smells of peaches. Plus, it’s kind of funny to watch the way Ahsoka’s eyes keep flicking over to them in jealousy.

Padme’s in the midst of a conversation about student council’s annual fundraiser with Riyo (who just so happens to be the representative at large for the junior class) when she’s interrupted by a loud whoop from Anakin. Looking out the window, she watches with a smile on her lips as they pull into the campground.

“I booked us campsite number twenty,” Ahsoka explains, using the map on her phone to guide Anakin to their designated area.

The cars barely been put in park when they all leap out, stretching and complaining about the cramped quarters. Popping the trunk, Padme grabs her bags, only to turn around to the stares of those who didn’t witness her with her luggage earlier.

“Padme,” Rex says, shouldering his backpack. “It’s a two day trip. Do we need to have an intervention?”

“The only intervention we need is for your fashion sense,” Padme shoots back evenly.

Off to the side, Riyo giggles, and Padme turns in time to watch as the hearts in Ahsoka’s eyes begin to beat double time. Usually this is when Anakin would start making a joke about Ahsoka being whipped- but said teenage boy currently has Obi Wan pressed against a tree and thus really isn’t in a position to talk right now. Padme rolls her eyes, pointing an accusing finger in Riyo’s direction.

“Okay, first,” Padme says, clearing her throat. “Please don’t make me use the spray bottle I packed. It would suck to have to spray vinegar in all of your eyes because you couldn’t stop humping each other.”

She ends her sentence with a significant glare in Anakin and Obi Wan’s direction, and the two back away from one another, raising their hands where she can see them.  

“Secondly,” Padme continues, whipping back around, “I hate to throw Riyo under the bus here, but she packed two bags and I don’t see anyone dragging her yet.”

Ahsoka shoots Padme a grin, shouldering her girlfriend’s bags with a kiss on the shorter girl’s cheek.

“That’s true,” Ahsoka allows.

“And?” Padme demands, crossing her arms.

“And what?” Ahsoka answers, widening her eyes innocently.

“How come I’m the only one who gets fucking roast-”

“Anakin, _what the fuck_ ,” Rex screams, cutting off Padme’s tirade.

Five heads turn in Rex’s direction. The incredulous boy holds a plastic grocery bag labeled ‘PROPERTY OF ANAKIN’ in sharpie, shaking it accusingly in the other boy’s direction.

“What, exactly, did you pack?” Rex asks, his tone already implying immense disappointment- but no surprise whatsoever.

“Um,” Anakin answers, making his way over to Rex to take his “suitcase” and look inside, “Okay, let’s see. We got two bags of Doritos, a change of clothes, uh, some, uh, condoms and -”

“Anakin,” Ahsoka says, in a slow enough tone that even Padme steps back a bit, “Please tell me you packed the tent like I asked you to.”

Anakin pales, laughing nervously.

“ _Oh, shit_ ,” he whispers.

* * *

 

Two hours later, after copious yelling from Ahsoka, fearful screaming from Anakin, and a trip to Walmart to purchase a couple of the cheapest tents they had (“Get out your fucking wallet Anakin, I don’t give a damn if you’re broke, this is _your_ fault-”), the actual camping trip can finally begin.

The campfire flickers against the night sky, and Padme likes this time of their night best, loves the quiet in the air and the coolness of the breeze, but most of all, the silent love that radiates back at her from her friends. Nothing needs to be said- they’re here and they’re together and that is enough. If the Force was once truly a living energy like the legends say, then Padme is sure that now, of all times, they would be able to feel it swell with the echoes of transcendent love, of belonging and family and people to call their own.

Obi Wan’s busy teaching Anakin how to cook the perfect marshmallow- (“The key is patience, Anakin, that’s why all of yours keep burning,”), while Ahsoka and Rex chat animately about Rex’s new pet dog, Trooper. Padme’s almost done doing Riyo’s nail polish (she’d like a round of applause for her ability to do the perfect manicure in the fucking wilderness, thank you very much), and to her, right here and now, this is love: people who can make even a tent in the woods feel like the safest home she’s ever known.

Ahsoka’s loud laugh breaks Padme from her thoughts as she looks up across the campfire to the source of the joy.

“Skyguy,” Ahsoka giggles, earlier anger forgotten, “I bet you can’t catch this marshmallow in your mouth.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Anakin grins, hurrying over, and Padme shares a soft smile with Obi Wan as they watch the interaction of the two.

Ahsoka doesn’t hesitate, turning away and winding up. The muscles in her pitcher’s arm flex, (Padme swears she hears Riyo growl softly at the sight but hey, maybe she’s just imagining things), and she throws the marshmallow clear across the campfire- she’s not their school's star softball player for nothing.

Anakin shoots off after the marshmallow like a desperate man on a mission, diving towards the ground on his back at the last second, mouth wide open to catch his prize.

The marshmallow bounces off his nose, hitting the dirt next to him.

“Oh,” Ahsoka says, grinning wickedly, “I’m _good_.”

* * *

  

“No,” Padme says flatly, stepping in front of the tent’s entrance, arms crossed.

She’s dressed in a silk pajamas with her hair piled on top of her head, held in place by chopsticks, and even in her confusion, Ahsoka has to take a moment to admire Padme’s sheer commitment and dedication to fashion, even on a camping trip.

“Why not?” Ahsoka asks, crinkling her brow as both she and Riyo subtly try to step around Padme, only to be blocked by the older girl once again.

“No way,” Padme says, all but flattening herself against the entrance of the tent in her attempt to keep both Ahsoka and Riyo out. “Under no circumstances are you two sharing a tent.”

“Um, is this fifth grade sleepaway camp?” Ahsoka asks, rolling her eyes. “Why can’t we share a tent?”

“Because I refuse to spend an entire night in the dead quiet of the wilderness listening to you two having sex. I’m a good person and so is Rex, neither of us deserve that. And that goes for you two as well,” Padme says, turning towards Anakin and Obi Wan.

With Padme’s glare turned on him like a prison yard spotlight, Anakin slowly backs away from his tent and drops Obi Wan’s hand, as if acting like he has absolutely no idea what Padme’s talking about will save him.

As Padme turns back around, Ahsoka huffs indignantly.

“Listen,” Ahsoka says, looking down to hide the smirk on her face, “I know you’re super thirsty for Sabe and truly bummed that she’s not here, so if I promise we’ll invite her next time, will you please not cockblock me now?”

On Ahsoka’s right, Riyo lets out a shocked and delighted giggle as Padme’s entire face flushes red.

“W-what?!” Padme snaps, and not even the dimming light of the fire can hide the burning in her cheeks. “This has nothing to do with Sabe and me! This is about getting a good night’s sleep without having to listen to all of you hook up!”

“Okay,” Obi Wan says, and Padme turns to glare at him like the traitor he is, “But didn’t you say just last week that you only get four hours of sleep a night on average?”

“That’s all successful people really need,” Padme snaps, leaping onto the change in conversation and holding on for dear life. But of course, since for some damn reason, she chose friends that are the human equivalents of airhorns and wrecking balls, forgetting her minor slip into her feelings for Sabe isn’t an option.  

“Hmm,” Anakin says, and Padme _knows_ that tone. The only real question left is what exactly it is that Anakin and Ahsoka are planning now- because together, the combined evil genius of their minds might just rival her own . Closing her eyes, she forces herself to take four soothing deep breaths, just like her yoga instructor taught her. _Peace. Calm. Tranquility,_ she thinks, centering on the gentle pattern of her breathing. _Peace. Calm. Anakin and Ahsoka are going to burn my world to the ground,_ and yeah, deep breaths aren’t gonna go do shit.

“Here’s an idea,” Anakin says, and Padme’s eyes fly open as she turns in his direction, inner peace forever lost. “Concept: I share a tent with Ahsoka, not Obi Wan, and in exchange for you not having to listen to our cacophony of sin, you let us hook you up with Sabe.”

“No!” Padme yelps, shaking her head furiously, because honestly, she’d rather listen to her best friends having sex for the next seven hours than risk letting Anakin and Ahsoka get involved in her love life. The last time that happened, Rush Clovis had ended up in the hospital, the climax of a chain of events now referred to simply as The Night Of Mistakes and Regrets- and she hadn’t even _liked_ Clovis beyond maybe sleeping with him once or twice.

Sabe is different- Sabe is _special_ , beautiful and lovely and soft. The thought of Anakin and Ahsoka meddling in the delicate card house that her and Sabe’s friendship has become since last summer sends warning signals zig zagging their way across her skin. It’s been more than nine months and Padme’s heart still shivers in her chest when she thinks about how Sabe had gotten super drunk and kissed her with lips that tasted like chocolate liquor and something else that she worries she will be chasing for the rest of her life: love.

And now, she can’t even do a goddamn body shot off Sabe at a party without wondering for weeks if it meant something. That’s hard enough. Not talking about any of this is even worse. All their fragile walls need is the slightest tap to come crumbling down, and Anakin and Ahsoka couldn’t do slight or subtle if their lives depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter- today was my very last AP exam (i had four total) and so writing this felt really cleansing and fun.
> 
> please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter. reviews are my whole entire world- they keep this fic going and remind me that people actually appreciate all the hard work i put into this fic, which is kinda like my baby. also, feel free to ask any questions about the characters + events and/or make a suggestion for something you'd like to see the #squad get up to in the next chapter. i'm always looking for new ideas of what to do for the next update, so please feel free to let me know what you want to read. even if you don't leave a comment, please leave a kudos, and as always, thank you so much for reading.
> 
> p.s. a few of you stopped by to talk about the fic with me/leave a review/offer support on my tumblr, kcrra.tumblr.com, and it completely transformed my entire day each time one of you did it. i can't describe how happy and motivating hearing that you guys like this fic is. thank you so much, you little angels.
> 
> p.p.s. if there's anything specific/a certain pov you'd like to see next chapter, please let me know!! we've got some serious riyosoka, obikin, and snips/skyguy brotp thats going to be going down next chapter as my kids scheme and attempt to hook padme up with sabe!!


End file.
